Chapter 2

When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in midair. I looked down at the cryopod and stared at the stiff, curled-up figure inside, utterly dazed.

The girl in the pod had frost clinging to her hair and eyebrows. Her lips were a deep shade of purple, and she lay perfectly still.

Was that me? Was I dead?

Outside the pod, the base was in utter ruins. The place I had lived for the past five years was reduced to rubble, the streets littered with severed limbs. It was impossible to tell which belonged to zombies and which belonged to my old friends.

I looked through body after body, searching.

"Where are you, Mom? Dad? Dad's the best commander there is. Nothing could have happened to them."

My voice wavered. "They must have just evacuated for now. They'll come back for me."

I checked corpse after corpse until I was too exhausted to keep going, but I still couldn't find them anywhere.

I drifted back to what used to be my room. The cozy space was now completely trashed. Amid the broken bodies, I found a rag doll—the one Mom had given me for my fifth birthday.

There was a tear on its belly from when I had accidentally ripped it, and Mom had promised she would sew it up for me whenever she found some free time.

I floated in the corner of the room, waiting quietly.

One day passed. Then two. Then a week.

Over the ruins, the snow fell and melted, then fell again. I waited for what felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, a violent tug yanked at my ethereal form. My weightless body was dragged across the ruined city and down into an underground fortress.

The place was brightly lit and buzzing with life. A massive party was underway, thrown to celebrate Beckett's recovery.

In an apocalypse ravaged by zombie attacks, they had somehow managed to find colorful ribbons, balloons, and a massive cake.

Dad stood on a platform, beaming as he raised his glass to the crowd. "A toast to our hero and the future of humanity, Beckett! We have successfully extracted a perfect antibody from his blood."

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers.

Mom gently cut a thick slice of cake for Beckett. "That's our Beckett, always the sweetest and most thoughtful."

She paused, and contempt crept into her voice. "Not like that ungrateful wretch who only ever caused trouble for us. She never gave us a moment's peace."

Somewhere in the crowd, someone asked in a hushed voice, "Commander Walker, where's Brielle? Why isn't she here?"

Dad let out a cold snort and casually waved his hand, his wine glass still in his grip. "She's in confinement back at the old base, throwing a tantrum."

"A little hardship will straighten her out. Kids need discipline when they don't listen," he added confidently. "Don't worry. Those military-grade cryopods are built like tanks. The zombies won't be able to get inside to kill her."

I lunged forward, desperately trying to scream the truth in their faces.

"I'm dead! You left me in your so-called military cryopod, and I froze to death!" I shouted.

But my hands passed straight through Dad's body. I couldn't touch anything, nor could I make a single sound.

The devastating reality finally sank in—I had been forgotten, left behind forever in that agonizingly cold cryopod.

I floated above the crowd, watching them laugh and clink their glasses together.

Perhaps this was for the best. I would never have to give blood again and watch it being fed into Beckett's veins.

That was something, at least.

Then, it was time for the scheduled nutritional supplements. A newly hired nutritionist walked in carrying two portions of nutrient paste—one plain and one strawberry-flavored.

The strawberry flavor used to be my special reward. It was given to me because I was always good during the blood draws, never crying or making a fuss.

When Dad caught sight of the two portions, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

Then, he snatched up the strawberry paste meant for me and threw it into the trash without a second glance.